eleven small steps toward oblivion
by Kaist
Summary: it's so easy to fall asleep. [chrom/fem!robin, somewhat au]


** 1. **wakefulness: shaking hands and a bleeding heart, internally screaming at the _understanding _in (chrom's) dying face, begging him to accuse her of something _anything _but no- "it's not your fault. promise me you'll escape"- and then nothing, nothing, nothing, because (chrom) is gone and she- what does she feel?

like the world has ended, and perhaps it has. there is a soothing voice calling to her, gently urging her to sleep and rest and be freed from her sorrows. and as the darkness encroaches on her, a sob wrenches from her throat. but she's only just closed her eyes when she opens them to see him whole and curious and distant.

** 2. **"thank you, chrom," and only then does the memory come rushing back in fragments and it takes everything she has to not fall over. as it is, she trips on her own two feet and frederick reaches out and steadies her with his hand. later, after campfires and risen and frenzied fighting, she closes her eyes and tries to think, tries to remember, because good men and women don't deserve to die- and even though chrom is new to her, after what's happened to them there's just something about him that speaks of trustworthiness.

(if she's honest, there's something else about him that makes her heart beat fast.)

and she doesn't really have anywhere else to go but it seems fate has something in store for these people and oh, won't this haunt her months later with an unretrieved body and a martyr's memory lingering in the roaring silence-

** 3. **and when emmeryn is gone, she takes his face in her hands in the throne room of regna ferox and makes him listen. the world is only them, and leaderandtactician seems so _unimportant_. robin speaks- and chrom hears. outside of their small bubble lissa is breaking down with frederick's hand on her shoulder. it's not just lissa, either: they're all affected, everyone in various states from tortured stoicism to outright weeping. as it is, robin feels hollowed out from the inside, tired and hurting but nowhere near chrom's grief.

(her tears will come later, in the dead of night- when no one else is there to witness it.)

chrom worries about bringing robin down, but her faith in him is unbreakable. she doesn't think he'll never fall, but what are (unspoken lovers) for if not saving each other from themselves? emmeryn's sacrifice will never be forgotten, so long as ylisse remains a kingdom. chrom would have it no other way, and as the shepherds march to exact blood's price from gangrel, robin reflects that neither would she.

** 4. **his arms are warm and scarred and such a small part of him in comparison to the amazing man he is. and she sometimes wonders about the other lifetimes, the other universes where she did not end up with him: anyone would be a fool not to notice the way the pegasus knights look at chrom and something makes her throat close up, makes her go misty-eyed when he murmurs in the dead of night that he chose her- that she chose him- that together they'll create a new world, one that emmeryn would've loved. it's with each other, in those moments lost between sleep and not-quite-wakefulness, that neither of them have to pretend they've got everything together. they are just chrom and robin, human above all else.

** 5. **flavia laughs, brash and strong, as she slams her mug down on the table and mocks basilio for something that happened in their shared childhood. when he turns the tables on her, she turns to robin and says- "but you must have done something like that, robin, even with that mind of yours-" and robin wonders when everyone's going to remember that she _doesn't _remember as she explains her curious affliction for the nth time. it marks how well she's integrated into the shepherds' lives, but it _is_ hard to explain. she surprises herself with a yawn and rubs at her eyes, returning to the book of strategy lissa gave her as the khans bicker like children and the shepherds all laugh and eat and chatter.

they all have a lot riding on her ability to develop a winning plan, and she's not about to let them down again.

** 6. **"people put you together, you know," sumia says quietly with her hair veiling her face. she's talking more into the night than she is to robin, really, and robin isn't quite sure how to respond- because how does one respond? regardless of robin's tumultuous thoughts, sumia continues. "you and chrom. you're not chrom and robin. you're _chromandrobin. robinandchrom. _like you're one unit instead of two people."

robin opens her mouth, and closes it.

"oh, did you take that the wrong way? it's all right," sumia says suddenly, earnestly, looking up with a smile. robin wonders if she should believe that smile, and decides that for peace of mind, it's probably best. "it's sort of funny. henry said..." so the night watch goes, as robin is regaled with tales of the white-haired mage's antics. she almost thinks she preferred the silence. but sumia looks so happy to be speaking to someone, so she stays quiet and smiles and tries not to yawn. the graveyard shift is never the most preferable of watches, but someone has to do it.

in the shadows, a blue-haired girl watches with desperate longing.

** 7. **chrom loves lucina the moment he sees her swaddled in robin's arms, moonlight framing their faces, and robin finds herself falling all over again for the awe radiating from his face. by the light of the candle chrom sees the exalt brand in his child's eye at the exact moment lissa does. chrom's mouth falls open, lissa gasps, and robin-

robin smiles tiredly, and holds the child they created out to him. he takes her with aching tenderness, utterly taken with the fragile thing in his arms. little lucina cooes in delight, and lissa helps robin lay back down. her eyelids flutter closed- suddenly it seems so much _effort _to keep them open. "good night, chrom, lissa," she mumbles, a radiant smile on her face. "good night, lucina."

** 8. **_you are yourself before you are any man's daughter- _chrom reminds her of who she is, and she holds to that through half-remembered nightmares of a man who is _not _her father (she refuses to believe it) laughing evilly over a barren landscape while she runs and runs and runs with an unknown sense of danger ringing in her veins and poisonous whispers in her ears, until finally she comes to chrom, bleeding, saying-

_promise me you'll escape-_

and when she wakes up with cold sweat dampening her clothes and a chill running up her spine, she knows what she has to do.

** 9. **"you always seem so sleepy, mother," morgan says cheerfully, freely attaching himself to her side and peering at the book held in her hands.

robin looks at the glove that conceals the mark on her hand. she looks away. "hmm. do you think so?"

"mhm," he says, reaching over and flipping a page. "this is my favorite passage, mother! the first thing i read since coming here was this section about terrain use. it's fascinating!"

"it is a very important lesson," robin acknowledges, marveling again at her son's outlook on life. she smiles at him and tries not to yawn or think about the bags under her eyes. "why don't you show me what you've learned?"

morgan's eyes gleam, and she knows she's said the right thing.

** 10. **in between battles, marching, and battlefield social life, robin sleeps. it's hard to do, with the constant headache she seems to have these days, but more often than not a shepherd will find her asleep in her tent, bent over her books. her dreams are full of shattered streams of conscious and half-heard messages, conflicting and mixing until they all flow together like a river in her mindscape and she wakes with a strange sense of looming doom.

** 11. **lucina is watching her again with that odd look in her eyes and her hand on falchion's pommel, so robin pats the seat next to her as she tucks her bookmark between well-worn pages of tactical knowledge. hesitantly lucina sits, and with that, confirms robin's suspicions. she gazes at the daughter she's come to love with an indiscernable expression. "it was me, wasn't it?"

it's not really a question, and the shattered fragment of a dream _(chromsdyingface) _finally makes sense. lucina swallows, closes her eyes, and finally leans on robin's shoulder as she whispers: "yes."

"i won't let it happen again, lucina. not in this lifetime." she _won't._ lucina looks up at the steely note in her mother's voice, eyes wide-

"mother?" she meets robin's quiet gaze, and suddenly, she understands everything that robin isn't saying- understands _just what _robin would sacrifice for chrom's sake- and her previous thoughts, her previous plan (the plan she hardly dared to think of but was so sure she had to do), are completely wiped from her mind under the weight of those solemn eyes. "..."

"lucina." she is in robin's arms and thirteen again: pleading with her parents not to go, not to leave her and little morgan all on their own. robin's hand brushes over her head and through her hair just like the times when lucina was a little girl, and suddenly the tears are rushing in and there's nothing lucina can do to stop them. robin rests her head against lucina's, and whispers into her ear. _"i have a plan."_

"mother..."

robin is silent, but her grip tightens. and lucina's mother- this strange past-her, at any rate- doesn't make empty promises. every battle she's ever fought under chrom and robin proves the reality of robin's iron will and sharp mind against their enemies, and not a single shepherd has died under them.

lucina can only ask naga to keep their record spotless.

/-/ end file

**;robin's appearance can be whatever you want it to be, honestly, but if you were curious, the robin i created used build 3, face 1, and hair 1 with blue. also, slight au!**


End file.
